


High Hopes Low Sleep

by Goldstone_Wolf



Series: High Hopes Low (Blank) [11]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), High Hopes Low Rolls (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol is Used But Not Abused, Also should I be worried about how many of my fics actually have choking in the tags, And Possibly Bones, Angst, Choking, Crying, Cuddling, F/M, Food mentions, Important Items are Broken, Lots of Crying, M/M, Malark Gets Hurt, Paddy Cries, Paddy's Mask, Peanuts are Mentioned, Well - Freeform, alcohol use, but not badly, but not that kind, like BIG angst, like there's like two but that's twenty percent of my writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:28:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23776123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldstone_Wolf/pseuds/Goldstone_Wolf
Summary: No one has seen Paddy really cry. Yes, they’ve seen him tear up when in pain or when he’s laughing too hard or scared, but never when he’s sad.So, when Malark walks into their inn room to find Paddy sobbing on his bed, he’s understandably worried.
Relationships: Malark Dundragon/Paddock "Paddy" Whitlaw, Rook Lunera/Gwing Veloce
Series: High Hopes Low (Blank) [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692196
Comments: 10
Kudos: 22





	High Hopes Low Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Mildly angsty, but also somewhat cute. Also, my writing might seem a little rushed because my mom thinks I need pressing to do my schoolwork. Like, no thanks, I have a C and a B, and then As in all my other classes (including a college one), and the two low ones are my “bad” classes anyways. My grades are fine.  
> Anyways, into the fray!

Paddy was sobbing.

It wasn’t his—it wasn’t normal. _No one_ saw Paddy really cry, at least not when he was sad. No one had _seen_ him be sad. The wood elf was almost always peppy, prank-pulling, and cheery. He’d been that self earlier.

“Paddy?” Malark quietly eased himself in through the window, and Paddy jumped. Looking away, the wood elf started wiping at his face. “Hey, you don’t—you can cry, Paddy, you know that.”

“It’s fine, Malark.”

“The shaking tone says otherwise.” Quietly, Malark sat by him, hesitating before reaching over to touch his…friend’s knee. “Do you…do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Can you…can you just leave me alone? Please?” Pausing, Malark lifted his hand, about to touch Paddy’s shoulder. It didn’t seem safe to leave him, not like this. The wood elf had wrapped his cloak around himself, burying his face in the leafy edges. After a moment, Malark pulled away, letting his gaze wander. Paddy’s coat and featherpiece were hanging from a hook on the wall, his sword in its scabbard beside them. The leafy cloak was on Paddy’s shoulders, and he was still wearing the white shirt. His boots were undoubtedly by the bed, because he was _obsessed_ with keeping shoes off furniture.

Something was missing.

Although he didn’t leave Paddy’s side, he kept looking, trying to find what was different. An idea toyed at the back of his mind, flapping gossamer wings under his fingers but dissolving like dew when he grabbed for it. The bearskin rug by the fireplace seemed the same as when he had left. Water dripped from the silver faucet of the sink, slow and steady. By Paddy’s coat, the wooden vanity reflected only the room around them as he saw it.

Quietly, he pulled his feet up beside himself, sitting cross-legged on the comforter with narrowed eyes. He held his reflection’s pale gaze. Earlier, Paddy had been sitting at the same vanity, trying to clean smudged makeup from flushed cheeks. They had gotten beaten up pretty badly the day before. It had ended for Paddy when he slumped down onto the bed, unconscious but wounds treated. Hours before, when he’d been happy, he’d been recovering as Malark patrolled (old habits died hard). Every so often, he would adjust his mask, blink at Malark with those stupidly handsome green eyes of his, and ask how he looked.

_The mask._

Glancing at the wood elf, he leaned over and whispered, “Paddy, where’s your mask?” Instead of replying, Paddy pulled his knees up to his chest, ducked his head, and buried a hand in his hair. Malark stood and walked around the room, heading for the ornate lamp sitting on the windowsill while avoiding the rug in the middle of the room. His feet collided with something hard and set it skidding.

Glancing down, Malark found the two pieces of Paddy’s mask.

It was cracked. A jagged slash extended from above the left eye and stretched down below to the right. It hadn’t been like that the night before. Malark remembered taking it off Paddy’s head and gently washing some of the blood from its surface before setting it down on the bedside table.

Turning to Paddy, holding the fractured halves, he realised the wood elf was watching him with tear-filled eyes. “Malark, _please_.”

“What happened?”

“Malark.”

“ _What. Happened.”_ Paddy looked away, biting his lip. “Did _you_ do this?”

“Malark, I said I don’t want to talk about it—”

“Did you do this?”

“Ma _lark_ —”

“Paddy, why would you—”

There was a flash, and suddenly he was pinned to the wall. The mask dropped from his hands and he clawed at his throat with a choked cry. Across the room, Paddy stared at him, eyes glowing the same autumnal orange as falling eyes. After a moment, he was dropped, gasping, to the floor.

When he staggered to his feet, Malark stared at Paddy. There was no indication that he felt any egret, however. “Get out. I won’t ask you again.”

Hands shaking, Malark walked out and closed the door behind him. On the other side, he could hear Paddy start sobbing again as he slumped to the floorboards, waiting and trying to catch his breath. This time, the regret _was_ there, and Malark got the sudden feeling Paddy hadn’t meant to do what he did.

When he walked into the inn’s lobby, Gwing was there. So was Rook, nursing some bottle of liquor. As Malark slumped down the free seat beside them and stared out the window, she tilted her head and asked, “You okay, Malark? You’re back early.” When Rook loudly belched, she sighed and added, “You don’t seem like a drinker, either, so it’s not for the liquor.”

“I’m not.” He spent several silent minutes cracking peanuts open, dropping the nuts in another tray without eating them, and then crushing the shells into dust. Neither Gwing nor Rook spoke. Zenya and Nala both tried nibbling on the peanuts. While Nala decided they weren’t worth her time and went off, probably to find a mouse, Zenya seemed to take a liking. Grabbing the nuts in her tiny claws, she started biting cheerfully. Eventually, she was taking them from Malark’s fingers, although he didn’t mind. Instead, he rubbed the top of her head, and finally sighed. Tonight was Unusual Feelings Night, apparently. “I’m worried…about Paddy. He was crying when I came back.”

Nala paced by and Gwing stroked the feline’s ears. “He was crying? Paddy?”

“Yeah—and he broke his mask. At least, I think he did. I trieed asking and he threw me into the wall before kicking me out.” While Zenya wolfed down peanuts, Rook chugged the remainder of his bottle. “I don’t know why.”

Rook set the bottle down. “It’s the day he came back from the circus to Bay Hollow. When he found it burned.” He started playing with Zenya, moving a peanut around the weathered table in front of them. She would take chase, and sometimes would nibble on his knuckles and fingers when she caught them. “I was asked to do some research on him, by Rosa. He’s got a family. Or he _had_ one. Two brothers, a sister, and his mother. Guess who else had masks?”

Malark’s heart plummeted in his chest, and he got up. “I’ll go check on him.” _I knew I shouldn’t have left him alone. I’m such an idiot._

Gwing caught his wrist. “Don’t get hurt.”

“He wouldn’t. Not on purpose.” Sprinting up the stairs, he let himself back into the room. Paddy was sitting on the bed still, holding his head and in the same position as Malark had left him in. Closing the door, Malark went and sat down, not even thinking about the dangers or asking before pulling Paddy into a hug, into his arms and his chest. The wood elf stiffened up. Words neither needed to say passed between them when he took Malark’s hand, and Malark let his head rest on the elf’s shoulder where it met his neck.

In a few minutes, Malark had Paddy lying down with him, pulled to his chest and turned so Malark could look down and meet his gaze if needed. The wood elf was crying and crying hard, and Malark gently stroked his hair. They could fix the mask tomorrow.

And when Malark found whoever destroyed Bay Hollow…

They would _burn_.

**Author's Note:**

> Turned out angstier than I thought. I gotta go and work on some stuff, including some very hard WIPs for Teen Wolf and SvtHSA that are going to rub some old wounds back open. I think I need to deal with it that way, though, or else it’s going to be over my head for a while.  
> On a brighter note, one of the other WIPs is a story I might try to take to Disney, so…yeah! Hope y’all have a nice time of day where you are!  
> Into the fray once more!


End file.
